


Y U G E N

by ban9nanana



Category: flk
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-10-28 23:28:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17796803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ban9nanana/pseuds/ban9nanana
Summary: “Is that what they say about me? I'm the stuff of nightmares?”“You own half a country and you painted it with your colors,” Vivienne says, her voice is quiet and her scent subdued. “Why wouldn't people have nightmares about you? You are scary.”“Are you scared of me?”Mara owns a city that she painted red until a man that doesn't seem to truly exist steals something from her. And all the strings lead to Yoongi, a gang leader that never fails to get on her nerves.幽玄





	1. スチール

**Author's Note:**

> love u cloud 9 :-)))

 

 

 

 

YUGEN  幽玄

“a profound, mysterious sense of the beauty of the universe…

...and the sad beauty of human suffering”.

 

  

* * *

 

 

 

There's a particularly annoying noise that is only managing to worsen Mara’s building migraine. The problem is, Mara doesn't know where it is coming from. It's a ticking noise, almost like a clock. Mara doesn't have clocks in her office. Mara doesn't have clocks anywhere in her penthouse, period. Clocks are something that Mara can and will live without.

So where the fuck is this ticking noise coming from?

“Hey, are you listening to me?”

Mara looks up from her lap. Carla is sitting opposite to her,  a desk dividing them. The woman has her eyes swimming in uncertainty and her jaw clenched painfully. Mara can't blame her for her mood. She’d be worried too if only the ticking noise weren't distracting her as much as it is.

But yes, she’s listening.

“How much?” she asks, Carla takes a very long and deep breath, almost as if she’s bracing himself.

Carla rarely gets nervous. So Mara isn't liking this situation. She wasn't liking it at the beginning either, but now that she’s seen how nervous and, quite frankly, pissed off Carla is, Mara is  _ fearing _ the situation.

“This person managed to break in one of our warehouses.”

“How much, Carla.”

Carla swallows and licks her lips nervously. “Twenty kilograms.”

Mara’s brain processes the new information and she does some quick maths. She reaches for the pack of cigarettes and she takes one out, then she gets her lighter from the pocket of her jacket.

Mara lights up the cigarette and she takes a long drag, letting the smoke settle in her lungs for a few seconds before she breathes out the lungful.

“Pure kilos?” Mara asks, Carla nods stiffly. “So you're telling me I lost 3 billion dollars? Give or take?”

Carla clicks her tongue and nods once again.

Well, shit.

“You'll find this motherfucker and you will bring him alive to me.” Mara says, she taps on her cigarette just above the tacky crystal ashtray that Callie got her for Christmas two years ago as a joke. At least, Mara hoped it was a joke. “And it's fine if he doesn't have the money. I'll drown him in his own piss and that will still bring me a sort of amusement.”

Carla rolls her eyes. Mara would give her shit for it, but she doesn't. She would if only that ticking noise could stop.

“We have security footage.” Carla adds, Mara arches an eyebrow.

“These motherfuckers manage to steal my coke but forget to check the cameras?”

“I have a feeling they just got lucky.” Carla leans down to get her laptop from the bag she put on the floor. She puts it on Mara’s desk, opens it and then she starts searching for the footage she wants to show her. “They weren't clean, they wanted to steal more but then they had to cut it off short because security rushed in.”

“They still stole it, though.” Mara mutters. “Three whole billions worth of my coke.”

It's really fucking with her. Not because the money that she most likely just lost is such a big deal. Fuck, three billion is nothing, she spends them in a week if she’s feeling petty and needy of new expensive shit. It's the principle. The fact that someone stole from her.

Or maybe it's the never-ending ticking noise, it's the way her head keeps throbbing ever since Carla stepped inside. How is it that whenever Carla comes to her house she always brings shitty news?

“Here.” Carla turns the laptop so that the screen faces Mara.

The quality of the image could be better, it's dark in the warehouse, but she still can make out the silhouettes of the thieves. Two men who run inside and quickly start grabbing as much as they can of the stash of cocaine. They drop the plastic wrapped drug in two large sport bags and Mara can see why Carla thinks they were hoping to get more. The bags are truly big, they could easily fit at least fifteen kilos each, if not some more. Suddenly, what must be the light of a flashlight creeps through one of the windows. The two thieves notice it and immediately run off. Mara can see their faces now, as they turn away and make a run for it, the cameras captured them quite clearly.

“I don't know who the first one is.” Mara says, pointing at the screen. “Second one seems familiar.”

“That's because he is.” Carla straightens her shoulders. “Liu Chen.”

Mara shrugs. “Should that ring a bell for me?”

“He's one of our runners for the rich districts.”

“He won't be shit soon.” Mara nods. “We know where he lives, obviously.”

“He recently abandoned his previous address, but Kate found where he's currently hiding fast. He's not subtle in his movements.”

Mara hums, she breathes in some more smoke. “That's because he's an idiot. Only idiots steal from me.”

“Should we go tonight?”

Mara scoffs. “'s not like we have a choice. Piece of shit could run away at any moment. Besides,” Mara looks at Carla, sends her a knowing look. “I have a certain fucking dinner tomorrow.”

“Ah.” Carla grimaces. “We shall go tonight, then.”

“Let me finish my cigarette first. Take one, smoke with me, you know I hate smoking alone when there's someone else in the room.”

Carla finally breaks into a grin, dimples appearing at the corners of her mouth. She leans further on the table and takes a cigarette for herself.

They both smoke in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. Well, as much silence Mara can get considering that goddamn ticking noise.

“We were supposed to go eat Japanese tonight.” Carla suddenly says, Mara groans.

“Fuck. We're going to miss Japanese.”

“That pisses me off even more than the whole coke ordeal.”

“Call Kate, tell her we can't go.”

“Should I ask her to come with us?”

Mara thinks about it for a second, keeping the smoke in her lungs before she shakes her head and exhales. “She’s too messy. I like this skirt, I don't want blood on it.”

Carla takes her phone and starts typing, most likely a text for Kate. “She’ll get pissy when she’ll find out we didn't bring her with us.”

“She’ll get over it.”

“Or maybe you should get over the blood on your skirts.”

“Wow, did I ask?”

Carla snorts, then she locks her phone and pockets it, she brings the cigarette to her lips.

Mara sighs and starts massaging the bridge of her nose, her migraine steadily growing. “What the fuck is this ticking noise?”

Carla frowns. “What noise?”

“Can't you fucking hear it? It's so goddamn annoying, I don't know where it's coming from. I could hear it since you walked in.”

“Ah.” Carla rolls her eyes and then she lifts up her arm. Under the sleeve of her white blazer, Mara can see a watch, a simple and elegant design. “You can hear this ticking?”

“Yeah.” Mara admits.

“I'm sorry.” Carla takes the watch off her wrist and pockets it, the ticking gets significantly less loud. “I thought this one was pretty quiet, I could barely hear it ticking, so—”

“'s fine.” Mara brings the cigarette to her lips and takes one last long drag of smoke before she stubs it in the ashtray. “Let's go. The sooner we end this fucking thing the better, maybe we can even go take some Japanese food if we're quick enough.”

Carla scoffs as she gets up her chair. “I wouldn't count on it.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Mara doesn't particularly like her job.

She knows that there's this whole myth of glory behind the figure of a drug lord: sex, drugs, whores and expensive champagne being poured in crystal flutes and stashes of money thrown over silk sheets. In reality, it's a whole lot of paperwork, migraines, and sleepless nights.

Mara guesses that if you also don't have a conscience one might enjoy the job a bit more. Mara’s moral compass might be a bit cracked but it still works perfectly fine. She just stopped trying to not step over the line a long time ago, as it did her no good to try and have nights free of nightmares. Hell, the nightmares only became more because of her trying to keep her hands as clean as possible, which is quite ironic. But karma is a bitch and she knows how to do her job just fine.

Carla drives the car into one of the middle districts, not particularly rich considering the state of the road on which the car is traveling, but there's worse out there.

“There.” Carla says, Mara focuses on where her friend is pointing. It's a condo, must have been built recently, but all the lights are off. It is quite late, almost two in the morning, but still.

“Is it abandoned?”

“The apartments in it should be for sale in about a month or so.” Carla says as she drives the car closer to the curb slowly. “It's a good place to hide. No one's there.”

“But that works more for us than for him.” Mara says.

Carla parks the car and turns off the engine, she sends a look at Mara before she sighs and reaches for the glove compartment. She takes a gun out of it and, surprisingly, gloves. Mara feels like Carla is the only person who actually keeps gloves in that compartment.

“Should I get my stuff?” Carla asks as she secures the gun behind her back, tucking it beneath the belt of her pants, the blazer covers the weapon from sight.

Mara  nods, she passes a hand through her black hair and clicks her tongue. “Okay, let's just go.”

They both step out of the car, Carla walks quickly around it and stops in front of the trunk, opening it and retrieving a black hardshell briefcase. She shuts the trunk close and then locks the car, then they both start walking to the entrance of the condo.

The front door has been forced open, probably by Chen himself when he first came here.

“What floor?”

“Third.” Carla replies, walking ahead of Mara.

They find the stairs relatively easily considering how dark it is. They climb up slowly, making sure the soles of their shoes don't make too much noise on the smooth flooring, especially Mara, who’s wearing heels. Once they reach the third floor, Carla nods at Mara to follow her. She’s walking straight to the end of the corridor, ignoring completely the five doors at the side. Chen must have thought that hiding in that last apartment was going to be a good idea as no one can see the windows of the flat from the street which, Mara will give it to him, isn't a terrible idea.

Once they're in front of the door, Carla reaches in the inside pocket of her jacket and grabs her lockpick set. Very carefully, Carla fits the tension wrench in the lock of the door, turning it slightly and then she places it at the bottom of the lock. Carla sniffs, then gets her metal rake from the small leather set that she then places back in her pocket before she gets back to work. Carla slides the rake inside the lock, eyebrows furrowed together in concentration, still applying a gentle pressure with the wrench. After a few seconds of moving the rake around, there's a soft clicking sound.

Carla sends Mara a glance, nods at her and then takes the gun from her belt. As soon as Carla opens the door, Mara can already see the silhouette of a man holding something up in the air, possibly a weapon of some sorts.

Chen swings his arm, trying to hit Carla with whatever it is he's carrying, but Carla holds up her arm and grabs the man's wrist. Carla is fast in twisting the gun in his hand so that he can hit Chen’s temple with the bottom part of the grip of the weapon, hard enough for a jarring sound to reach Mara’s ears.

Chen groans and then falls to the ground, Carla grabs his arms and drags him further inside the flat.

Mara steps inside as well, closing the door behind her. She looks around and finds a switch on the wall, so she flips it on. Suddenly there's light in the apartment. It looks mostly empty if not for a bare mattress thrown on the floor, a chair, some clothes folded in a corner and packs of instant chow mein scattered around. There's also an electric stove, a kettle and a pot. And bottles of cheap liquor, some empty, some still have to be opened.

“He's out?” Mara asks.

“For a few minutes.” Carla manages to drag the unconscious body to the chair and she holds her body up so that she can drop Chen on the seat. She steadies his body so that he won't fall back on the floor, then she sighs. “Why do I always have to do the dirty job?”

“You talk as if you're gonna do anything the moment he wakes up. Here.” Mara hands Carla her briefcase and the woman takes it.

Carla places it on the floor, she opens it and gets the adhesive tape out. Mara leans against the wall and decides to have a cigarette as Carla does her part of the job.

Honestly, Carla is someone who's always worked quick. Mara always admired her for it, she doesn't like wasting time. She ties Chen to the chair, rolling the tape around his torso and on the backrest of the chair several times. Then she gets on her knees and tapes the man's ankles to the legs of the chair as well.

Mara looks down and she frowns when she sees a metal baseball bat on the ground. That must've been what Chen was holding when he tried to defend himself against Carla. It might come to use later.

“This place smells like shit.” Carla mutters once she’s done, pats her hands together almost as if they're dirty with dust.

“Nah, he smells like shit.” Mara says, nodding at Chen. “Water might not be working.”

“Electricity works though.”

“Then he must simply not give a shit about personal hygiene, which pisses me off even more.”

The living room in which they are is large, connected to an open kitchen, the corridor in front of them must lead to the bedrooms. It's a decent place. Maybe they should start considering the idea of investing in apartment complexes.

Chen groans and stirs, Mara perks up at this and she walks to him, standing in front of the man and waiting for him to come to his senses, Carla stands back.

Chen opens his eyes, blinking quickly, probably blinded by the light, his black hair unkempt and falling over his brow in greasy locks.

Once the man looks at Mara, the color on his face disappears.

“Chen.” Mara tilts her head to the side. “'s a nice place you've got going on here. Your address, though, tells me you live in another house. In the expensive part of the city. Which district was it again?”

“Telok Blangah district.” Carla replies.

“Ah, yeah. You live in a rich sector, in a rich apartment that you can afford because of the money I pay you with.” Mara licks her lips. “So what are you doing hiding in this shithole?”

Chen has the dignity to at least look scared. He opens his mouth to speak, but he closes it soon. He's not shaking, but Mara can see him swallowing hard.

“Miss Zhang, I-”

“Where's my coke, Chen?” Mara takes a drag of her cigarette, blows out smoke and feels kind enough to give Chen some time to think about his answer.

“Ma’am.” Chen speaks with a very docile voice. It kind of pisses her off. “I don't know what-”

Mara’s arm swings fast, the back of her hand colliding with Chen’s face hard enough for it to sting, the man's head twists to the side.

“Don't lie to my face. I don't like it.” Mara says, her migraine once more acting up. “I appreciate honesty in my men more than anything. You know shit about it, clearly, but maybe you might want to not feed me bullshit right in front of my goddamn face for the time being. Let's make this quick.”

Chen presses his lips together. “I don't know anything about-”

Another slap, this one is harder, her knuckles hit Chen’s cheekbone and it's probably because of the ring Mara is wearing, but Chen’s skin opens, blood rising to the surface.

“What really fucking pisses me off,” Mara massages the back of her right hand. “is the fact that I give you a high position in one of the richest districts and then you're greedy enough to steal from me. It's fucking disgusting, where's your loyalty?”

Chen stays quiet, staring at the floor.

“You're not gonna tell me where the coke is? Fine. Who was the other man with you?”

“I don't know.”

Fucking hell, this is going to be so annoying and stupid.

“Listen.” Mara sighs. “I don't want to be here. You want to get as less pain as possible from this. Let's help each other out. If you tell me who the other man is I'll go easy on you. Mh?”

Chen makes a quiet sound that almost sounds like a whine, which only serves in making Mara just grow more annoyed with the whole situation.

“Ma’am, I- I really don't know what you're talking about, I swear.”

Another slap, this one hard enough to make Chen cry out in pain, his head lolling down for a moment. Oh, Mara knows that this one sure as hell stung like a bitch.

“I'd be less mad if it were the cut shit that we sell on the street, but my pure coke?” Mara hisses. “Twenty fucking kilos of it? Do you have any idea of how annoying it is to lose billions like that, you fucking bitch?”

Chen looks up at her, a frown on his face. “Billions? I-”

“Oh. No way, did he tell you it was worth less than that?” Mara scoffs. “No shit, he played you, didn't he? Doesn't that make you mad? You're in this situation because he fucked with you. Tell me his name, Chen.”

And still, Chen stays quiet. But Mara can see that his resolution is starting to crumble, he's shaking now.

“Carla, bring that baseball bat, will you?”

Carla moves immediately and Chen’s skin goes ashen.

“Wait!” he yells, writhing on the chair, trying to free himself and only managing to have the tape dig into his skin painfully. “I don't know anything! Miss Zhang, I swear I don't know where the coke is!”

“I believe you on that.” Mara sees Carla handing her the bat, so she takes it. It is heavier than she expected, the metal cool and smooth under her fingers, and it complements her red nail polish. She gives it a swing, hears the moment the bat cuts the air in a sharp noise. “But you must know the other man's name. No one is stupid enough to work with someone who doesn't give you his name. Are you stupid, Chen?”

Chen doesn't answer her, he's too focused staring at the bat in her hand like it's the anti-christ or something, fear running wild in his eyes. Sweat is starting to break on his forehead, his lips are dry and his toes are curled.

“I'll break something with this. Any bone, you name it, I break it.” Mara takes a deep breath. “Tell me a name, Chen.”

Chen groans, he wriggles on the chair, bottom lip trapped between his teeth, looking so scared out of his mind already that Mara realizes it won't take him long. She shouldn't have canceled on Kate, maybe they would have made it just fine.

“I duh-don't know, Ma’am!!” Chen says. “I swear I don't know, you must believe me!”

Mara hums. “But I don't.”

Mara gets a more solid and steady grip on the bat and then swings it fast, making it collide with Chen’s knee. The sound is something chilling, the bone breaking so easily, Mara almost felt it in her hands at the moment the bat hit him. Chen screams, writhing on the chair, trying to arch his back.

He throws his head back, spit dribbling down his chin.

Mara moves closer to Chen and harshly grabs his hair, pulling his head down and then crouching in front of him, staring at him in the eyes without even blinking.

“That hurts?” she asks, Chen is breathing hard, Mara gives his hair another hard tug. “Answer me, does it hurt?”

“Yuh-yeah, Miss Zhang.” Chen whimpers, there's snot under his nose and his eyes are red with tears of either pain or fear.

“I'm gonna hurt you more if you don't tell me his name.” Mara lets go of the bat and she gets up on her feet, tugging at Chen’s hair, wrenching his head back. “You think I like this? I ain't some sicko, boy, I don't get off breaking your fucking bones. But, shit, if you don't tell me his fucking name I'm going to make you eat your own shit. You want that?”

“Nuh-no Ma’am I- I duh-don't want that.”

Mara nods. “His name.”

Chen swallows and Mara can see the moment he gives up. He blinks and that little fight he had in his eyes is completely gone.

“His- his name is Chou Hulin.” Chen finally says. “But I don't know where the coke is, Miss Zhang, I swear I don't!”

“And I already said I believe you on that. Elaborate. Who's this Hulin?”

Chen makes a small pitiful sound, eyes welling up with tears. “I don't know, Ma’am, I don't know who he is. He just- he came to me, he came to me when I was in the Malaysian district. He- he knew me. Said he was guh-gonna give me a good cut of the profit if we stole the drugs.”

“So he's planning on selling it.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“You don't know who he works for? If he works for someone?”

“He didn't tell me anything, Ma’am, I didn't ask.”

“You didn't, did you?” Mara snarls and Chen tries to cower. “You fucking didn't, you just saw the opportunity to fucking rob me and decided to put your trust in a stranger. You betrayed me.”

Chen tries to shake his head but Mara still has a solid grasp of his hair. “Nuh-no, Ma’am, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I just- I wasn't thinking.”

“You sure as fuck weren't. Betrayed your goddamn family. Thought we were family. All of us are, aren't we? You don't turn your back on family, Chen.”

Which is a whole load of bullshit. Mara couldn't give less than a crap about the Family or whatever it is that she’s supposed to call this, but she’s just hoping to get more information. Maybe Chen is a very good actor and he actually knows more. Most likely, though, he doesn't.

Chen is a nobody and this Hulin knew it, that's why he came to him. He just needed someone to help him get to Mara’s warehouse.

“I'm sorry, Miss Zhang, I'm sorry. Please, I- this is all I know, I promise, I told you everything!”

Yeah, he did.

“Good boy.” Mara lets go of his hair and he hears Chen draw in a sharp breath of relief. Which, again, is quite stupid. “Carla, he's all yours.”

Carla, who has been leaning with her shoulder against the wall, perks up and takes one step forward. Chen tries to kick his legs free of the tape, groaning when he tries to move his broken knee.

“Wuh-wait!” he yells. “I don't know where he is but- but there's this other girl.”

Oh?

“What other girl?” Mara asks, Chen wets his lips, eyes darting from Mara to Carla frantically.

“Hulin talked about her sometimes, he- he used to brag about this whore he sees every week or something. Muh-maybe she knows where Hulin is, he talked a lot about this girl.”

Yoongi nods. “Does the whore have a name?”

“I don't- don't know her real name. Goes by Sugar. But I know she works in- in that club, Ma’am, the one in the Kallang district, Ma’am! Your club.”

Mara frowns. “This Sugar works at the Libellula?”

“Yes, Miss Zhang! I swear! Hulin talked about her a lot, Ma’am!”

Mara sends Carla  a glance and the woman nods.

“I see. Good boy, Chen.” Mara smiles at the tied man, whose features relax immediately in relief. “As I was saying: Carla, he's all yours.”

Carla finally walks all the way to her briefcase, Chen looks at Mara with wide eyes.

“No! No, you promised!”

“What?” Mara arches an eyebrow. “What did I promise? I don't make promises to pigs.”

“You said if-if I talked then you-”

“I would've went easy on you. And I am.” Mara points at Carla. “She’ll kill you quickly. That's going easy on you.”

Carla takes from the briefcase a muffler and she quickly applies it to his CZ 75, locking it in place. She then gets up and stands in front of Chen.

“Miss Zhang, please.” Chen begs with a quiet voice, tears spilling free by now, his face white and limbs trembling. “I'm sorry.”

“Yeah.” Mara says. “Me too.”

And really, she means it.

Carla aims the gun towards Chen, pulls the trigger and the bullet goes right through Chen’s skull, whose head flies backward. The bullet hits the wall and gets stuck there, cracking the material. Mara looks for a few seconds at the blood that is pooling on the ground beneath Chen’s head and she sighs.

“Well,” Carla says. “This was unpleasant.”

“Add this to the list of nightmares.”

“We leave him like this?”

“Send someone to clean up tomorrow. Tell them to dispose of the body somewhere, possibly not in one of our districts.”

Carla hums as she unrolls the muffler from the muzzle of the gun, she then puts it back in the briefcase and shuts it close. “What about the whore?”

Mara sighs. In one of her goddamn clubs, that's where this Sugar is. “We'll go tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Hulin has twenty kilos of pure coke to get rid of. He'll have to find some dealers, cut it, the asshole will probably try his best to make the most of it so he'll probably make it as low grade as possible. That takes time, so yeah. Tomorrow. I'm too tired and fucking hungry.” Mara turns around and goes back to the door, Carla follows her close. “And text Kate. Tell her that we  _ are _ getting Japanese in the end, we'll be at her place in thirty.”

“Got it.” Carla and Mara step outside the apartment and Carla locks the door again, retrieving her picklocking set and putting it back in the pocket of her blazer. “What day is it today?”

Mara frowns. “Monday.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Carla groans. “It's only Monday.”

Shit, Carla is right. It's only Monday.

“We'll go early, before opening.” Mara says as they walk down the corridor and to the stairs. “We don't want to be seen when there are patrons already. Tell Yuki she’ll come with me, I'll need you to do some research with Callie on this Chou Hulin.”

“Yes.” They start climbing down the stairs and Carla clears her voice. “Does this mean you'll cancel tomorrow's dinner?”

Ah, fuck.

“Move it to Friday.” Mara mutters. “Tell her not to be too mad.”

Carla snorts. “As if it's gonna make a difference.”

Yeah, it really won't make any difference.

And it's only Monday.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Her father has never been a fan of nightclubs and brothels. He found them crass and disgusting.   
  
“You stick to what has class and brings money, Mara.” he used to say. “And that's drugs and territorial supremacy.”   
  
The moment her old man had died and Mara got on the throne, the first thing she did was buying clubs, at least one in each district she had back then. The money came so quickly that it almost left her dizzy after the first month of the openings. Now Mara owns the money that comes from sex and perversion because, unlike her father, Mara understands people and what they want. When you live in a country like Singapore  in times like these, you'll do anything to forget even for just a mere second how shitty your life is. Sex and alcohol will always help forget.   
  
There's a song playing on the radio. A ballad that Mara doesn't know, but Yuki is humming to it, her fingers tapping on the steering wheel in time with the melody.   
  
Mara looks at her for a few seconds and she can't quite keep a smile to herself. Yuki is still young but her face is starting to lose the girlish appeal that it had a long time ago. Her features are soft, she’s got small eyes, but she’s incredibly beautiful. That helps in Yuki’s particular sector, which is the main reason why Mara chose her for her job.   
  
“So,” Mara starts, lighting up a cigarette. “This Sugar.”   
  
Yuki stops humming to the song and she frowns, stops at a red light. “What about her?”   
  
“You know her?”   
  
“Why should I know her?”   
  
“You're the one who takes care of my goddamn clubs, Yuki.”   
  
Yuki rolls her eyes. “It's not like I know every single worker. I only know, like, one.”   
  
Mara grins. “Do you now?”   
  
Yuki scoffs and yet her cheeks flush. God, she’s such a fucking kid. “Not like that.”   
  
“Right.”   
  
“I mean it.”   
  
“Sure, I believe you.”   
  
“No, you don't.” Yuki starts the car again once the light turns green, she turns to the left. “Whatever. But if this girl works at the Libellula it means she’s one of the expensive darlings.”   
  
Mara hums, she rolls down the car window and exhales a lungful of smoke outside. “How expensive?”   
  
“Expensive. With a capital E and everything.”   
  
Which means she’s probably not from the streets.   
  
They finally reach Kallang, one of the districts that brings the most profit to Mara.   
  
It's a rich district, expensive condos with luxurious flats, in almost every corner there are either Love Hotels, bars or nightclubs, Mara owns them all. This is her only pure district, the only one she doesn't share with any of the other families or smaller gangs. Mara wouldn't say she’s proud of it, because she sure as hell isn't, but it does feel good to see that she built this. Not her father, just Mara.   
  
Yuki pulls the car to the curb in a free spot, the Libellula is a few meters away. She kills the engine and unlocks the seatbelt. “Does Constance know we're coming?”   
  
“Fuck no, she doesn't.” Mara mutters as she opens the car door, she steps on the sidewalk and gets up, she throws the cigarette she had been smoking on the ground. “She would have given me hell for it.”   
  
“She still will.” Yuki says once she’s out of the car as well, she slams the door close and then locks it. “Should we go?”   
  
Mara nods and she fixes her leather jacket. She’s dressed casually today, for she finds it wise to not give away what kind of position she has in one of her own districts. Yuki, too, is dressed normally, just a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, with a cropped hoodie shrugged on.   
  
They make their way to the Libellula. The exterior is discreet, a simple lilac neon sign of a dragonfly on top of the entrance, black doors with obscured glass. Mara pushes them open and steps inside. It's clearly still empty as it doesn't open for the next hour, but there's already music playing even if in a low volume.   
  
The corridor that brings them to the main hall is long and dimly lit by small wall-lamps, as they walk the music gets a bit louder but still quite subtle.   
  
Once they reach the main hall, Mara is pleased to see that it hasn't changed one bit ever since she last came here, the night of the opening. Mara is the one who chose the furniture, decor and overall vibe she wanted the brothel to have.   
  
The Libellula was supposed to be a simple club, with strippers and overall similar entertainment, but once she had realized how big the place was and that she could've added private booths up on the second floor, Mara had decided to change her initial plans. On the bottom floor, it is a simple club, with music and strippers on the large stage and two cages at each side of the room. Upstairs is the brothel, where most of the clients usually are. No one really comes to the Libellula for the normal entertainment.   
  
The main hall is empty as of now, the stage clear if not for a staff member who is polishing the poles with a cloth. The lights are dim here as well but each light bulb is covered by a red glass vase so that shades of burgundy are cast all over the room. Mara looks to her right and she finds the bar, a smooth counter of dark polished wood that is still clean and free of drops of alcohol or melted ice. And behind the counter is Constance, looking at her with wide eyes.   
  
“Oh.” she says, her red painted lips stretching into a pleased smile. “Mara. And our Yuki, too.”   
  
“Constance.” Mara greets her, Yuki bows to her and then they both walk to the counter.   
  
Mara sits on one of the stools and Constance leans her elbows on the counter, locks of long black hair falling off her shoulder as she does so.   
  
“I have to say, I am surprised to see you.” she pouts, batting her lashes. “You never come see me anymore, Mara.”   
  
“I know, I'm sorry.” Mara says, smiling at the woman. “But I'm busy, you know it.”   
  
She hums, her playful pout is soon replaced by a grin. “Busy painting the city red, mh?” Constance says.   
  
“If you put it that way, yeah. Why don't you give me something to drink, Constance?”   
  
“What's the magic word?”   
  
“Please?”   
  
“Good girl.” Constance smiles and swipes her thumb over Mara’s cheek, who groans and pulls back. She chuckles and then turns around to the shelves of booze and liquors. She scans the bottles for a moment before grabbing one that contains Mara’s favorite Whiskey, she puts it on the counter and then grabs a glass from under the desk.   
  
“So.” Constance starts filling her glass and Mara has her eyes studying her thin wrist and long fingers. She always had pretty hands, Constance. Pretty everything, really.  “Why are you here, Mara?”   
  
Constance pushes the glass to her and Mara takes a sip of the drink, letting it rest on her tongue for a moment before she gulps it down, feeling it burn down her throat and to her stomach.   
  
“How is Dania doing?” Mara asks, Constance arches an eyebrow and crosses her arms.   
  
“As whiny and petulant as ever. Why are you trying to change the subject?”   
  
“We haven't seen her in a while either.” Mara notes, looking at Yuki. “We should have dinner one of these days. On me.”   
  
“Mara.”   
  
“I need to speak to one of your darlings.”   
  
Constance’s eyes narrow, her lips thinning in a firm line and her hand twitches around her forearm.   
  
“And why would you need that?”   
  
“Why do you need to ask questions?”   
  
“Because they're my darlings.”   
  
“Technically, they're all mine.”   
  
“Mara.” Constance grits out and Mara sighs.   
  
It's not that she doesn't appreciate the love and care Constance has for the darlings of the brothel. In reality, it's the main reason as to why she hired her in the first place. The previous watcher of the brothel used to get his hands on the darlings a little bit too much and too forcefully for Mara’s liking.   
  
This is a dirty job with dirty clients and dirty actions, but she will not have her own workers be humiliated more than they already do.   
  
“I won't hurt her. I need to ask her questions, she might know something important.”   
  
“My darlings see a lot of important and rich men, Mara.” Constance says, her head tilted to the side. She starts tapping one of her fingers against the fair skin of her arm. “Of course they know stuff. But they also know they should keep their pretty mouths shut.”   
  
“If I ask one of your darlings to talk then she’ll talk. There's no discussing that.”   
  
“Which is what worries me.”   
  
“Constance.” Mara softens her voice. “Please. I need to see her.”   
  
Constance seems to consider this, her eyes drifting off Mara’s face, focusing on a point of the room, the song in the background fades away and another one starts.   
  
“Which one is it?” she finally asks.   
  
“Goes by Sugar.”   
  
Constance’s eyes are sharp once they're back on Mara. “Why her?”   
  
Mara shrugs. “She’s the one that has been named once I broke knees with a baseball bat.”   
  
Constance rolls her eyes and she clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “You don't touch her. You hear me?”   
  
“I already said I'm not going to hurt her.”   
  
“You don't even scare her off. She’s one of the best darlings I have, Mara.” she says. “One of the most expensive, too.”   
  
Yeah, Mara already heard it from Yuki.   
  
“Where is she from?” Mara asks. “If she’s this expensive then she’s not from the streets.”   
  
Constance swallows. “She’s from Japan.”   
  
Oh, for fuck's sake. Mara and Yuki exchange glances.   
  
Mara looks back at Constance. “Since when do we have foreigns in my goddamn brothels?”   
  
“She’s the only one.” Constance says and then she sends her a knowing look. “Which is why you understand why I'm telling you not to hurt her or scare her. Am I right, Mara?”   
  
Yeah, she does understand. Foreigns bring profit. A lot of profit. Damn it.   
  
“Fine.” Mara takes a long gulp of her drink, hissing once it settles in her stomach. “Got it. I'll be a whole fucking gentleman if you want, even open the door for her and everything.”   
  
Constance heaves a sigh. “Go to my office, I'll send her to you. She’s getting ready now, just a few minutes.”   
  
“Thank you, Constance.” Mara smiles at her and she scoffs.   
  
“Keep those pretty smiles for whoever you want to fuck you, Mara, they don't fool me. Just go.”   
  
Mara nods then she turns to Yuki. “You wait for me here, don't go wander off.”   
  
Yuki frowns. “Where would I even go?”   
  
Mara snorts and she gets off the stool, heading for Constance’s office.   
  
The office is located right behind the stage, after a door that states in bold letters that only staff members can go in. Mara pushes it open and finds herself in Constance’s office.   
  
This particular room most definitely changed since Mara’s last seen it.   
  
The desk and chair are still the same, but now there are pretty paintings hanging on the walls, fresh flowers in a beautiful porcelain vase by the window, a beautifully embroidered tapestry pinned to the wall behind the desk. Mara walks around it and sits in the chair, smiling once she notices the framed picture on the desk beside the laptop. It's Dania and Constance, both smiling wide as Dania presses her lips to Constance’s cheek. God, Mara misses Dania sometimes. It's been ages since she last saw her.   
  
She sees an ashtray in front of her, a plastic pink one with the print of a flower in the middle. Mara grins at it, remembering when she gave it to Constance as a birthday gift and she almost threw it in her face. But she kept it, she sees.   
  
She reaches into her back pocket and gets her cigarettes out, quickly lighting up one and inhaling slowly. Her phone buzzes against her thigh and Mara gets it out of the other pocket, unlocking it and groaning at the sight of the texts.   
  
  
KATE: this is so fucking boring   
  
KATE: why do I always get the shitty jobs   
  
  
MARA.: didnt know there were parts of this job that werent shitty   
  
MARA: whats wrong   
  
  
KATE: miss zhang and grammar, two different worlds   
  
  
MARA: kiss my ass   
  
MARA: did you find anything or are you just bothering me   
  
  
KATE: I dont know if you talked to this Sugar   
  
KATE: but I have nothing   
  
  
MARA: nothing??   
  
  
KATE: callie is just as surprised   
  
KATE: it's like this Hulin is a ghost   
  
KATE: no one knows him, there's no trace of any records of him in the police archives, we have nothing but dust   
  
  
MARA: piece of shit must have given Chen a fake name   
  
MARA: i’m about to speak with Sugar   
  
MARA: i’ll text you if I have news   
  
  
KATE: tell me if she’s pretty   
  
  
MARA: get back to work you asshole   
  
  
  
  
Mara hears the doorknob twisting so she quickly locks the phone and puts it back in her pocket.   
  
Once the door opens Mara realizes that she wasn't prepared.   
  
The moment Sugar walks in, it is obvious that she’s not from the streets. Normal people don't look like that and it's a fact. No normal human being can look that good. It's not even a fact of being attractive, Mara is talking about sheer beauty. Sugar has a face that is so pretty Mara struggles to even comprehend how it is possible to have someone like her in this world, droopy dark eyes and a small nose that fit her bone structure too well. Her hair is of an unnatural light pink color, falling messily over her shoulder in soft waves.   
  
Mara’s eyes travel down the body of the foreign and her throat runs dry. She’s petite but toned, with a skin that looks like it has been kissed by the sun.   
  
Sugar closes the door behind her, her eyes set on Mara. “Enjoying it?”   
  
Mara looks at her. “What?”   
  
“The sight. You look like you are.” Sugar smiles sweetly, but Mara can see the mirth in her eyes.   
  
Fucking cocky brat.   
  
“Sit.” Mara instructs her, pointing at the chair that is opposite to her on the other side of the desk.   
  
Sugar looks at it for a moment, making no sign of wanting to sit.   
  
“You know, if you wanted an hour with me you could have just booked me.” she says, her voice is nice, a warm timber. “No need to get me in Constance’s office.”   
  
“Did I stutter?” Mara arches an eyebrow. “I said, sit.”   
  
Sugar looks at her for a few more seconds before she heaves a sigh and moves to sit on the chair. Once she does, Mara is hit with a scent that has her mouth water. It's- it's hard to describe, it's almost like flowers but far stronger than that, more alluring. There's amber somewhere in that scent, too. It's rich.   
  
Sugar then folds a leg over the other, the flesh of her thighs completely exposed, the cut of the black robe she’s wearing is so low that Mara can almost see where the stomach meets navel.   
  
Fucking foreigns.   
  
“Why am I here?” Sugar asks.   
  
“Do you know who I am?”   
  
Sugar shakes her head, a faint smile still on her lips. Pretty lips. Full and shining with what must be gloss.   
  
“Mara Zhang.”   
  
The smile doesn't falter, but her eyes widen slightly.   
  
“Oh.” she says. “You're my boss.”   
  
Mara brings the cigarette to her lips. “Technically.”   
  
“Didn't know that Mara Zhang was such a pretty girl.”   
  
“Didn't know I gave you permission to speak.”   
  
Sugar arches an eyebrow, clearly amused.   
  
“You speak when I ask you questions.” Mara has promised Constance she won't scare the darling, that doesn't mean she will just sit and let her speak whatever goes through her mind. “What's your real name?”   
  
Sugar scoffs. “Why would I tell you that?”   
  
Mara taps her cigarette over the ashtray. “'Cause I asked you to.”   
  
Sugar’s lips twitch for a second in an annoyed sneer, her eyes narrowing. She doesn't like it when people boss her around like this, clearly.   
  
“Vivienne.” she finally says.   
  
“Vivienne. I think you might have some information that I need.”   
  
Vivienne hums, she crosses her arms over her stomach, the fabric of the robe slides off one of her shoulders, revealing a strap of her black laced bra.   
  
“About?” Vivienne prompts.   
  
“A certain man.”   
  
“You'll have to be more specific than this, darling.” Vivienne says, her eyes now on the hand with which Mara holds the cigarette. “I meet a lot of men every night.”   
  
Mara nods. “I'm sure you do. What about Chou Hulin?”   
  
Nothing in Vivienne’s posture or expression changes, she remains as neutral as before, which kind of pisses Mara off.   
  
“Don't know him.” Vivienne says with a shrug.   
  
“'s that so?”   
  
“I'm positive.”   
  
“I have reasons to believe otherwise.”   
  
“Offer me a cigarette and my memory could come back.”   
  
This fucking-   
  
Mara clicks her tongue and then grabs her pack of cigs again, opening the lid and handing it out to Vivienne. The foreign unfolds her arms and takes one cigarette.   
  
Vivienne puts the cigarette between her lips and then leans forward, arching an eyebrow. Mara keeps a sigh to herself and she takes the lighter from the desk, pushes down the switch to let the flame come alight and she lights up Vivienne’s cigarette. The foreign inhales, cheeks hollowing, lips pursed around the stick of tobacco. She leans back against the chair then, takes the cigarette between her index and middle finger and breathes out a cloud of smoke.   
  
“What has he done?”   
  
“That's none of your concerns.”   
  
“Mmmh, but it is.” Vivienne grins. “You came all this way to talk to me, he must have done something bad.”   
  
“He did.” Mara presses her lips together when Vivienne shows no sign of wanting to speak. “He stole from me.”   
  
“Is that so?” Vivienne inhales more smoke. “What do you want to know?”   
  
“Who is he?”   
  
“I don't know.”   
  
“You don't know.”   
  
Vivienne shrugs. “I know he's shady. I guess he's part of a gang or something? There are so many nowadays, all shitty and ridiculous gangs full of people who think they can watch the world burn as they sit on a throne made of cash, I wouldn't be surprised if he is in one of them.”   
  
The picture Vivienne just drew of the new small gangs, full of pathetic and arrogant kids who think they can sit at the adult's table is quite realistic.   
  
Mara takes one last drag of her cigarette and then she stubs it in the ashtray that she then pushes closer to Vivienne. “Is Chou Hulin his real name?”   
  
Vivienne frowns at this. “I guess so? I mean, to book the service of one of us you need to be a member of the club, so he had to give his ID to Constance. Then again,” Vivienne lets some ash fall in the pink ashtray. “ID might have been fake. He introduced himself as Hulin and that's how I called him.” she pauses. “Apart from daddy.”   
  
Mara rolls her eyes and Vivienne pouts. “It's not like I enjoyed calling him that.”   
  
“That's irrelevant.” Mara replies. “How long has he been one of your clients?”   
  
“Three months.” Vivienne answers, she puts her wrist on the armrest of the chair and Mara rolls her eyes once she can see that the robe slid so far off her shoulder that she can now perfectly see half of her entire bra. “He came every Wednesday, every week, he wouldn't miss a day. He had a thing for me.”   
  
Mara waits for her to elaborate, but Vivienne doesn't. “A thing?”   
  
Vivienne nods. “It's not uncommon. Men fall in love with whores all the time. He used to say he wanted to cover me in all things pretty and stuff like that. Promised he would get me out of here as soon as he had some money.” Vivienne rolls her eyes and then starts examining her nails. “As if I'd go anywhere with the fucker.”   
  
“Did he ever say anything about suddenly having that money?”   
  
Vivienne looks back at Mara before she takes another drag of smoke. “He said something about an idea he had to get money. That it would be soon, but this was three weeks ago or so.” she pauses. “Did he steal your money?”   
  
“Something like that.” Mara clears her voice. “Are you sure you don't know anything about him? He never mentioned anything about his work? Affiliated gangs, anything?”   
  
Vivienne shrugs. “To me he's just a customer.” she then looks down to her wrist, lips turning down in disgust. “A shit customer.”   
  
Mara makes a mental note of this reaction. Shitty customer, must have done something nasty to Vivienne. Vivienne doesn't like Hulin, that's obvious, but this goes past simple indifference or dislike. Vivienne seems to despise him.   
  
“If you're scared of him,” Mara starts, Vivienne’s eyes are back on her. “don't be. If you're not talking because you're afraid of the consequences, forget about it. If you tell me everything you know I'll make sure nothing happens to you.”   
  
“I don't need your protection.” Vivienne retorts evenly. “I'm more than able to take care of myself.”   
  
“I'm not saying you aren't.” Mara tilts her head to the side. “Is it about money? 'Cause if you talk, I'll give you that as well.”   
  
Vivienne laughs at this. An actually amused laughter, it sounds lovely and Mara would appreciate it more if only Vivienne’s eyes weren't throwing daggers at her.   
  
“Money.” Vivienne shakes her head. “As if I need money.” she looks at Mara  and takes one last drag of her cigarette before she drops it in the ashtray. “Darling, I'm not a fucking street hooker. Do you have any idea of how much a client is willing to pay so that he can fuck a foreign?”   
  
Mara stays quiet.   
  
“A whole fucking lot.” Vivienne says, looking so smug that Mara is starting to actually hate the kid. “Money is something that I have. Far too much, really.”   
  
“If you have it then what are you doing in one of my brothels?”   
  
At this, Vivienne’s amused smile morphs into a smirk, eyes dark and suddenly the air is too thick. Vivienne leans in once more, this time even closer, her scent is strong and it makes Mara’s head spin.   
  
“I'm a foreign, darling. Sex is the one thing I need. I feed on it.” Vivienne tilts her head to the side, eyes traveling along Mara’s face. “The filthier the better, this place is full of men who wish for nothing more than having their fantasies fulfilled. And I'm a lover of fantasies. Especially if I get paid so nicely for them.”   
  
Mara clenches her jaw, she tries to swallow but her throat is tight and Vivienne’s scent is the only damn thing she can smell, even stronger than the stale stench of the burnt out cigarettes and ash. 

She’s dangerous. And Mara now knows that.   
  
“So it's all you know about Hulin?” Mara manages to say, Vivienne’s eyes are now focused on her own once again.   
  
“Yes.” Vivienne finally pulls back and Mara can breathe. “As I said, he was just a client that was obsessed with me. I knew he's somewhat shady, but most of the people who come here are.”   
  
Shit.   
  
This was a complete waste of time.   
  
“Anything else?” Mara asks, feeling desperate. “I mean it, anything. Anything he might have mentioned.”   
  
“Shit, darling.” Vivienne snorts. “Just what has he stolen from you to make you so stubborn?”   
  
“It's not a matter of what he stole, it's the fact that he thought he could walk away with something of mine and his cock still hanging between his legs that pisses me off.” Mara says through gritted teeth.   
  
No matter how much she thinks about it, she still can't calm down. It's driving her mad knowing that a nobody managed to steal from her, to steal her drugs.   
  
But it's her father's fault, really. He's the one who made her this way, the fucking prick.   
  
Mara licks her lips and then she hums, a concentrated frown on her face. “He never really talked much, only about- about plans, you know? Money, he really wanted money. Oh.” Vivienne blinks. “The watch.”   
  
“Watch?”   
  
“He had a watch, an expensive one.” Vivienne replies. “It was the only thing he never took off, but one day it was gone. It was the same day he brought me a present, a necklace. A pretty necklace, real gold. I asked him about the watch and he just said not to worry about it but it didn't take me much to understand that he sold it so that he could buy me the gift. This was- four weeks ago? Yeah, four weeks.”   
  
God, at last.   
  
It's not much, but it's something. Mara can get something out of this, she knows she can.   
  
“You're sure about it?” she asks. “You're sure he sold it to buy you a gift?”   
  
Vivienne shrugs. “Really, I'm not lying when I said he was obsessed with me. Sometimes I found him sneaking by the brothel at closing hours to see me come out. He once followed me for a while before he stopped, I don't think he knows I saw him.”   
  
“Okay.” Mara nods. “Okay, thank you.”   
  
“We're done?”   
  
“We are.”   
  
“Well, then I'm off.”   
  
“Wait.” Mara grabs a pen from the desk and then she looks for some paper. She finds in the top drawer of the desk some yellow post its and she tears one off the bulk. “This is my number.” she says as she writes the digits down. “If anything comes to mind, anything, call me. Or text me, whichever is fine.”   
  
Vivienne eyes the post it suspiciously for a few seconds, not taking it from Mara’s hand once she hands it to her. Then Vivienne sighs and takes the piece of paper.   
  
“I highly doubt I'll remember anything else, I really told you all I know.”   
  
“Just in case.” Mara stands up from the chair, so does Vivienne. “Thank you for your help, you're free to go.”   
  
Vivienne hums and she turns around, walking back to the door. Mara thinks about how she can be a lethal weapon, something most possibly more than deadly, when she joins the Family. Should she take the opportunity?   
  
The foreign opens the door and then turns around. “Ah, if you ever feel like coming again, don't do it as Mara Zhang.” Vivienne says with a lazy smirk. “Bring one of your rich boys. I know you have a lot.”

“Rich boys? Shit, I wish.”   
  
Vivienne smiles fully and then she’s off, leaving Mara alone in the room with that floral scent still lingering in the air.   
  
Mara takes a deep breath, which was a mistake because that scent goes straight to her lungs, it's so sweet that she can almost taste it on her tongue. She quickly shakes herself out of it and then walks around the desk and heads out the room, quick steps bring her back to the bar counter.   
  
“Did it go well?” Yuki asks once she sees her, Mara nods.   
  
“I have something, at least. Let's go, the sooner the better.”   
  
“You didn't mistreat my darling, have you?” Constance asks with a raised eyebrow.   
  
“I didn't lay a finger on her and even gave her one of my cigarettes, Constance.” Mara replies. “Told you. A gentleman.”   
  
Constance hums, grinning. “She’s a pretty one, isn't she?”   
  
“I'm not having this conversation.” Mara mutters. “Either way, we have to go now. But I'll try to hear from you and Dania more.”   
  
“Do that, Mara. I've missed you more than I care to admit.” Constance then turns to Yuki. “You take care of yourself, baby girl.”   
  
“I will, Constance.”   
  
“Call Callie and Kate.” Mara tells Yuki once they're out the Libellula. “Tell them to be at the penthouse in ten, we have some digging to do.”   
  
“This Chou Hulin,” Yuki replies as she takes her phone from her back pocket.  “Kate texted me and told me she found nothing on him.”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“You think he's ghosting?”   
  
“Either that, or unregistered.”   
  
“Or not from here.”   
  
Mara stops walking at this, Yuki halts as well and looks at her. Mara didn't consider this factor. If Hulin isn't a local, then it’d  be ten times easier for him to be off the radar. Then again-   
  
“Vivienne didn't mention him being a local.”   
  
Yuki arches an eyebrow. “And you trust her?”   
  
“Do I have reasons not to?”   
  
“She’s a foreign. Not a local. And you know more than me how good they all are when it comes to lying.”   
  
Mara scoffs. “You ever expressed your opinion to anyone else than me?”

“I'll drive, give me the keys.” Mara says, Yuki gets the keys out of her pockets and hands them to Mara.   
  
They get inside the car in silence, Mara starts the engine and pulls away from the curb. “You alright, Yuki?”   
  
“Yeah.” Yuki frowns. “Why are you asking?”   
  
“No reason.” Mara says once she manages to bring the car in the traffic, with the evening beginning the district is starting to come alive. “Just- well, I'd like if you told me about your issues if you have issues.”   
  
There's silence then for a few seconds, Mara can feel Yuki’s gaze on her face.   
  
“Since when the fuck do you care about my issues?”   
  
Mara clicks her tongue. “Ungrateful fucking brat, I basically raised you.”   
  
“No one raised me.”   
  
“Okay, I didn’t. Whatever.”   
  
“I'm fine, Mara.” Yuki replies with a quiet voice before she looks out the window. “Whatever issue I have, I can deal with it perfectly fine on my own.”   
  
Which means that it's probably far worse than what Mara was thinking about in the first place. Great.   
  
Mara sighs and speeds up the car, burning a red light and ignoring Yuki’s undignified noise she makes at the infraction.

Then a thought crosses her mind. 

What if Hulin’s not a real person? Well, obviously, he’s a living breathing human, but what if it’s a cover-up? Those are impeccably easy to do these days, you don’t even have to have the proper skills or a bachelor’s degree in computer engineering. What if this Chou Hulin wants something else from Mara, something other than her drugs?

What if he’s part of the West Family?

Fuck, Mara hates those guys. Most especially their boss, Min Yoongi. Fucking prick. Cares for no one other than himself.

But then again, she’s assuming too much. She has to stop soon if she wants to avoid another migraine.

She keeps driving to the penthouse silently as Yuki picks her phone and calls Kate and Callie.   
  
  


 

 

  
  


 

 

 

  
  
  



	2. 保存する

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is weird. This isn't how she was thinking it would go. These men should be here for Hulin but instead- instead it looks like they're here for something entirely different or, at least, not related to Mara’s problem.
> 
> “You shits are looking for Hulin?” Mara asks.
> 
> “Zhang.” the man cocks his head to the side. “Back the fuck off from this.”

  
  


 

 

“He sold a watch so that he could buy a gift for a prostitute?” Callie repeats, eyes wide in surprise. “Is he a complete idiot, or-”

“Wait, wait.” Kate holds up a finger and then bites into her slice of pizza as she sits on Mara’s carpet. An expensive carpet. And Kate is eating pizza on it, with oil and sauce dribbling down her hand and Mara swears to God that if Kate stains her goddamn carpet, then- “Let's not be so quick in bashing this guy. Mara.”

“What?” Mara asks tiredly, already feeling like calling those two was a mistake.

“How pretty is this foreign?”

Very.

“She’s alright.” she says, Yuki snorts around her gulp of soda.

“Shit!” she exclaims, looking at Mara like she just suddenly grew two extra heads. “Listen to her. She’s alright. She came out of that office looking like a goddamn Ghost Chili.”

Kate dissolves in that obnoxious loud laughter of hers, Callie is trying to hide her own grin behind a napkin.

“And by the way, I saw her. The prostitute.” Yuki adds. “And she’s not just alright.”

“Okay.” Callie nods. “Which means that it is likely that Hulin bought her this necklace.”

Mara starts rubbing the back of her neck, feeling it stiff and aching. “Vivienne said Hulin was obsessed with her.”

“Wasn't it Sugar?” Kate asks with a frown.

“Well, that obviously isn't her real name, Kate.” Mara mutters, earning a glare from the brown-haired  girl. “Either way, I'd keep tabs on Vivienne as well. Have maybe Carla keep an eye on him while Amber’s not around, if it's true that Hulin is obsessed with her he might come back to the brothel or show up at Vivienne’s house.”

“Why are you so hellbent on finding this Hulin?” Callie asks with a raised eyebrow. “It's just cocaine, Mara.”

“It's money that I won't see again and a stain on my goddamn reputation.” Mara replies. “Especially if he starts selling it and the voice comes out that there's cheap coke on the street and it apparently once belonged to me. I'm not having that shit.”

Callie raises both of her arms in surrender. “Fine. What do we do with this information about the watch?”

“Vivienne said the necklace was real gold and that the watch he gave away was expensive.” Mara says. “I'll need you two to make some calls and find who bought it and where he bought the necklace.”

Kate groans. “Always such shitty jobs. It's going to take forever.”

“He couldn't have sold the watch just anywhere. He must have done it in a serious pawn shop or something, somewhere that can give him actual money. Same goes for the necklace.” Yuki says and Mara nods at her.

“The jewelers that accept cash aren't many and most of them are in our districts. As far as Pawn Shops go, see if there are some close to said jewelers. I have a feeling he stayed in our districts, or maybe in one of the affiliated families, the rich ones. You can't expect to get much money from shops that are in the low districts.”

Kate shoves a large bite of pizza in her mouth and then she licks her fingers clean of the oil and sauce. “Okay. Got a couple of contacts down in the Balmoral district, I can have them run some check-ups for me in some of the shops as we focus on the others.”

Callie takes her phone out of the pocket of her jacket and she starts typing something. “I'll talk with our shops and tomorrow morning I'll send someone to the jewelers in the districts. I believe we only have stores in three districts?”

“I believe so.” Mara stands up. “You do that, I have to call Carla now.”

Kate hums, already starting to send texts to her contacts, so Mara stands up from her armchair and leaves the living room, heading to her office.

She closes the door behind her and sits behind her desk, gets a cigarette between her lips and lights it up, then she scrolls through the contacts of her phone until she finds Carla’s. She taps on it and brings the phone to her ear, waiting for the woman to pick up.

“Mara.”

“I need you to keep tabs on someone.”

“Okay.” Carla replies, Mara hears a metallic sound coming from the other side of the phone. “Who?”

“Vivienne Nakamura.”

“Who's that?”

“Sugar.”

“Oh.” Carla pauses. “Okay.”

“Ask Constance for Vivienne’s schedule and shifts, tell her I asked you to. She will probably bitch about it for a while, just humor her.”

Mara hears Carla sighing. “Why do I always have to listen to her whining?”

“I pay you to do that.” Mara mutters before taking a drag of smoke. “Either way, make sure to stay in front of the club every time she enters and every time she leaves. Inside the club when she’s working.”

“I'm looking out for-?”

“For anything unusual. For Chou Hulin, too. Apparently, he used to go there every Wednesday.”

“Tomorrow is Wednesday.”

“Why do you think I'm telling you now?”

“Okay, what else?”

“If you see people who look like they might be in one of those small new gangs, make sure you don't lose them. Keep an eye on who Vivienne talks to and the clients that go to her room, ask Constance to tell you which of them are there for Vivienne.” Mara sniffs hard, taps on her cigarette. “Vivienne said she doesn't know shit about Hulin but, for all I know, she could have been lying. So keep an eye on her.”

“Okay.” Carla pauses, she’s probably in the process of writing down somewhere all of Mara’s  instructions, she likes being precise. “You want me to follow her home, too?”

Mara thinks about it for a few seconds. “Only tomorrow. Just to see if she meets with someone. Otherwise, follow her home only if there's someone with her.”

“How do I recognize her, what does she look like?”

Mara scoffs. “Trust me, you'll recognize her just fine.”

“That pretty?”

“She’s a foreign.”

“Fuck.” Carla hisses. “So, more than pretty.”

Mara decides to not add anything to Carla’s last statement. “She’s got pink hair, you'll recognize her just fine.”

“You think Hulin will go back for Vivienne?” there's a subtle scratching sound coming from the phone. Mara wouldn't be surprised if Carla is scratching the side of her head, she does that when she’s focused.

Mara hums, exhales through her nose grey smoke. “Vivienne said Hulin was obsessed with her. Brought her gifts, sometimes would wait for her to come out once her shift was over.”

“Tsk.” Carla chuckles quietly. “Falling in love with a whore. Not a good idea.”

“Indeed.” Mara twists her head to the left and she looks out the glass wall. Singapore’s night is stained with lights still turned on, most of them will never go out, lilac and red neon in the still alive parts of the districts. For some reason, the thought annoys her. But there's a lot of things that annoy Mara and she stopped keeping count a long time ago. “Any more questions?”

“Actually,” Carla clears her voice. “That dinner.”

Ah, fuck.

“What about it?”

“She wasn't happy.”

“And?”

“I couldn't reschedule it to Friday. It's this Thursday.”

Mara sighs. “Where?”

“Usual restaurant, usual hour.”

“I hate French food and the bitch knows it.”

“Mara—”

“I know.” Mara nods to herself. “Okay, fine. Thank you, Carla.”

“I'm sorry I couldn't do more.”

“No, it's fine, you did enough. You just focus on keeping eyes on Vivienne.”

“I'll do that, Mara. Don't worry about the dinner too much, mh?”

Right.

“Okay.” Mara replies. “Thank you, Carla, I'll hear from you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Mara.”

Mara ends the call and puts the phone on the desk before she swirls her chair around so that she’s facing the glass wall and she leans against the backrest fully.

She stares at the city once more, can see cars on the street, from this height they're nothing but small dots of yellow headlights, blurred and disappearing quickly.

Why is this annoying her? No, scratch that, she knows why.

The real question is, why is she noticing the view only now? Fuck, Kate is right, Mara is slow at picking up on things.

Mara brings the cigarette to her mouth and takes a long drag, long enough for it to burn her lungs once he inhales.

 

“You always have a view, Mara.” Her dad told her once, as she was looking out a wall eerily similar to the one Mara has now in her penthouse. “You must have a view of the city close to you. You must see what you've accomplished and what you hope to accomplish. You paint this city with your colors, be sure to recognize them every time you look at this city. It's your empire.”

 

It's a pigsty.

It may look pretty, but it's filthy and animals walk on the streets. This is why it's pissing her off.

Fuck her old man, the prick, always comes back to her head. It's like, even now that he's buried six feet under the ground, he keeps breathing down Mara’s neck. He spat on every single thing Mara owns just to remind her that he existed.

So goddamn selfish.

The cigarette is burnt down to the filter, ash hanging on it precariously until it breaks and falls on Mara’s leg. She looks at the mess on her jeans for a while before she swats it off.

“Fucking piece of shit.” she murmurs before swirling the chair around and tries to ignore the fact that there's glass behind her.

 

 

* * *

 

 

CARLA: shit

 

MARA: what

 

CARLA: she’s so

 

MARA: yeah

 

CARLA: holy shit

CARLA: you should have fucking warned me, almost choked on my goddamn water when I saw her

 

MARA: I did warn you

MARA: foreign

 

CARLA: Mara, I've seen plenty of foreigns and none of them were as pretty as this one

 

MARA: do you have something of actual importance for me or?

 

CARLA: no one came for her tonight

CARLA: no one we care about, at least. Definitely no Hulin

CARLA: followed her home, she didn't meet with anyone, went straight to her house

CARLA: btw, kid lives in a goddamn palace in fucking Balmoral

CARLA: she’s richer than I am

 

MARA: doesnt take much to be richer than you

 

CARLA: screw you

CARLA: either way, nothing happened

 

MARA: k

MARA: thanks

 

 

* * *

 

 

Mara is not completely unreasonable, so she won't entirely blame the woman sitting across her for her terrible mood.

She's contributing big time to it, sure, but it's not completely her fault.

The research on Hulin has given absolutely no results so far, which has been truly messing with Mara’s head. Callie and Kate have been calling and visiting Pawn Shops, gold buyers, jewelers and still nothing has come up.

At this point, it's not even about Hulin’s absence from the records, which could have been because of the possibility of him not being a local.

It's like he doesn't even exist.

Yuki said something about him being a ghost and Mara is starting to believe her. Apart from the registered membership of the Libellula, there's no trace of Hulin.

Really, it's enraging her more than Mara would like to admit.

“You're not eating?”

Mara looks up from her plate, a serving of Blanquette de Veau, and stares at the woman for a few seconds.

“I don't like French food.” Mara says. “You know I don't.”

She hums, dabs on the corner of her mouth with a napkin. Her nails look like they're fresh out of a salon.

“But I do.” she replies evenly before she neatly cuts a small part of her Tartare with the side of the fork.

Raw meat. It suits her, really. Of course that woman would eat raw meat and actually enjoy it.

“I know you do.” Mara takes her glass and sips the wine. At least that is something she enjoys. “How is business going?”

“Well.” the woman arches a perfect eyebrow, pushes black hair behind her shoulder. “Since when do you care?”

Mara smiles. “Nora.”

“Yes?”

“I don't give a fuck about your business.”

Nora’s face remains neutral except for the briefest twitch of her upper lip. “Of course you don't.” she then sighs, takes her own glass of red wine in her hands. She has pretty hands.

She is pretty. She's always been, Mara guesses that must be the reason her father used to fuck her and toss money at her once he was done with her.

“But I do care about how  _ your _ business is going.” Nora says, once more taking another bite of the Tartare. “So. How are things?”

“This restaurant is mine.”

“I know.”

“So I'd say it's going well.” Mara looks away from her. Sometimes she can't stand her sight. It's not all the time, just- just when she reminds her of her father. Which isn't that often, but still. “Especially the Kallang district.”

Nora’s grip around her fork tightens. “You mean your sex district.” she grits out.

Mara shrugs. “Call it however you want it.”

“It's disgusting, that place.” she says with a low voice, almost as if someone could hear them even though they're sitting in the private dining area. It's literally just them in this room.

“Mmh.”

“Your father would be ashamed of it.”

Fucking hell, this woman.

“Funny thing to say, considering that's exactly where he first met you.”

Nora looks at her, eyes narrow and her jaw clenched. “Mara—”

“What? You're going to scold me?” Mara clicks her tongue, feeling another headache building behind her eyes. “Go for it, since the old man can't do it anymore. He's too busy rotting away and getting eaten by worms.”

“You're such a-” Nora cuts herself off, taking a deep breath. “Why would you speak of him like this?”

“I speak of him however I damn like.” Mara drinks some more of her wine, savoring the rich taste of it. “Do we really have to keep doing this? The dinners?”

“We do.”

“It's a miracle we don't end up trying to gauge each other's eyes out with the shell of an oyster at the end of these meals.”

“It's what your father wanted.” Nora says, openly glaring at her. “The one thing he asked of us in that will. Nothing else. Just to meet for dinner once a month.” she shakes her head, suddenly looking sad. “He just wanted us to find comfort in each other after his passing.”

God, she's so naive. A whore falls in love with a drug lord and she really believes that maybe he felt something for her. Mara could pity her, if only she weren't so unbearable.

Again, not her fault. Domino effect, really. Nora was his, therefore she reminds Mara of him.

“No.” Mara mutters. “He wanted us to hate each other even more.”

“You always thought bad of him.” Nora says, her lipstick is fading on her mouth. “Sometimes I think you never even tried to know him.”

Shit.

Mara’s fingers twitch around the glass of wine. “I knew who my father was. Knew what he's been until his last breath. You, however, never did.” she pauses. “Which really makes you lucky.”

“You're eloquent today. You rarely speak that much, are you doing it just to get on my nerves?”

“Yes.” Mara sighs. “It's easy to get on your nerves. You're a stupid woman.”

“You-”

“Not because you're not smart. You are, actually. Or maybe you have been, once.” Mara licks her lips, her mouth feels dry but she  doesn't want more wine. “The moment you got in his bed you became stupid.”

Mara’s phone buzzes in her purse as soon as she opens her mouth to say something. She holds up a hand and she presses her lips together, Mara takes the phone and picks up as soon as she sees Carla’s name on the screen.

“Yes?”

“There's movement.” Carla says, she must be either in the entrance corridor or outside, as the loud music can only be heard faintly in the background.

“What kind of movement?”

“Three men walked in.”

“Did they go upstairs?”

“Not yet, they're just drinking. But they're a gang, for sure, and not one of our districts.”

“I'll be there soon.” Mara ends the call and stands up as she puts her phone back in the purse. “Shame, but I must go. Work.”

“Of course.” Nora mutters, eyeing her with anger clearly flashing on her pretty face. “Another excuse to run away.”

“I'm not running away, I'm going to walk at a very comfortable pace.” Mara grabs her purse, takes some bills out and throws them on the table. “Get some dessert, Nora. I'll see you next month.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Yuki stops the car in front of the Libellula, they both get out of the vehicle and shut the doors fast.

They enter in a moment, the bouncer barely has time to look at Mara in the face to know who she is, once they're in the corridor Mara sees Yuki checking her gun for a second before she tucks it in her belt under the jacket. Mara’s own weapon pressing against her back uncomfortably.

Mara pulls the curtains open and then they're inside the main hall of the bottom floor.

It's packed with people, most sitting at the tables, watching the stripper on the stage perform, others are walking around or sitting at the counter, hands sliding up and down the waiters' legs.

Mara spots Carla behind the bar and quickly walks to her.

“They got upstairs two minutes ago.” Carla says, her voice on edge.

“Shit.” Mara hisses. “Just the three of them?”

“One at first, he booked Vivienne, Constance told me. The moment she walked away for a goddamn second the other two went upstairs, too.”

“Okay.” This isn't okay. “Okay, let's just go.”

Mara goes to the stairs and starts climbing up, albeit quickly since she’s used to running around in heels. She really needs to tell Constance to have some fucking security on the upper floor, damn it.

“Yuki, you stay outside, keep guard, if someone tries to make a run for it you shoot him in the knee.” Mara says, she gets her gun out. “Carla, with me, kill one of them, let's try to keep the other alive, we need the information.”

“Got it.” Carla says, she pulls back the barrel of her gun.

“What room?”

“Six.”

As soon as she’s on the second floor, Mara makes a beeline for the room, scanning the numbers painted over the doors. Once she finds the room 6, she clicks her fingers and Yuki walks past her, positioning herself at the side of the door, back against the wall.

Mara glances at Carla, holds up her gun, and nods. Carla takes a deep breath before she kicks the door open and raises her arm, aiming for someone with her gun.

A shot goes off and there's a surprised yell and the sound of a body hitting the ground. Carla steps inside and Mara follows her, she spots one man, maybe in his thirties. He tries to reach for his gun but Mara aims her own weapon at him.

“Don't fucking move.”she says, the man halts his movements, staring at her.

Then Mara looks away and sees Vivienne.

She’s on her knees, almost naked if not for the sheer fabric of her lingerie and the red silk robe hanging off one of her shoulders. And she has a rope around her neck, her hands curled around it, trying to pull it away from her throat. But the man standing behind her is keeping a strong hold on that rope, tightening it around the girl’s neck even more.

Vivienne’s face is bruised, nothing bad, but she’s clearly struggling to breathe, her skin flushed, lips pale, and tears clinging to her lashes.

“One move.” The man says, giving the rope a hard tug, Vivienne chokes. “One move and I actually kill the fucking slut.”

Jesus, why is it always so goddamn difficult?

“You're Donghyuk.” Carla says, nodding at the man that has the rope. “I know who you are.”

“You don't know shit.”

“Let her go.” Mara says, Carla has her gun trained on the man but the bastard is hiding behind Vivienne.

“What do you need to know from her, Zhang?” he asks.

“That wasn't a goddamn question.” Mara cocks her head to the side. “That was a demand. Let her go.”

Donghyuk clenches his jaw, glancing at his partner, who’s still frozen in shock.

“I-” Vivienne wheezes. “I duh-don't know anything.”

“You keep that fucking mouth shut.” the man says, he tugs on the rope again and then he starts standing up, pulling Vivienne up with him.

Mara clenches her jaw when there's a sharp flash of pain twisting Vivienne’s features, the girl struggles to even keep her eyes open and her legs can barely keep her up.

“We're gonna walk away and you'll let us.” he says, keeping Vivienne in front of him.

“I swear to God,” Mara glares at the man, feeling her patience running thin. “You don't let her go now, I'll break every single bone of your body.”

“You're walking into something that shouldn't concern you, Zhang.” Donghyuk says.

This is weird. This isn't how she was thinking it would go. These men should be here for Hulin but instead- instead it looks like they're here for something entirely different or, at least, not related to Mara’s problem.

“You shits are looking for Hulin?” Mara asks.

“Zhang.” the man cocks his head to the side. “Back the fuck off from this.”

They know who Hulin is. Mara saw it on the man's face, but it's not because of the cocaine. They didn't come here for the man himself, they came here for something of his.

Mara sees in the corner of her eyes the guy she has under aim trying once more to reach for his weapon and, without even thinking about it twice, Mara shoots.

The guy groans for a second as the bullet hits him right in the chest and falls back. Taking advantage of the sudden distraction, Donghyuk lets go of the rope and shoves Vivienne off, sending her to the floor. The girl curls up on her side, coughing and gasping for air.

Donghyuk is fast in taking his gun from the back-pocket of his pants, he shoots one bullet in Carla’s direction, who dashes to the right as soon as she sees him raising his weapon. The bullet hits the wall, then Donghyuk turns around and grabs Vivienne once again, dragging her in front of him. 

“I'll kill her, I swear.” Donghyuk seethes, grabbing roughly locks of pink hair and pressing the muzzle of the gun against the girl’s temple.

Mara swallows hard, seemingly lost in the entire situation she caused. 

“I know you, Zhang.” Donghyuk says, grinning. “You don't like casualties, do ya?”

Mara sends a quick glance to Carla, who looks just as clueless as she does. This is so not how this was supposed to go.

Vivienne is trying to pry Donghyuk’s hands off her hair. God, that must hurt a lot. 

“You let me walk away, Zhang, or I swear-”

“Fucking fine, then.” Mara lowers her gun, Carla stares at her like she just went crazy.

“Mara, what the-”

“Go.” Mara steps away from the entrance of the room. “I ain't stopping you.”

Donghyuk looks at his way out, then back at Mara. “Step closer and off the door, both of you.”

Mara rolls her eyes she does as he says, taking a few step forward and distancing herself from the door.

Donghyuk then starts walking, his hand still grabbing Vivienne’s hair as he still uses the girl as a shield. He twists around once he's close to the door, so that he doesn't lose visual on them, walking backward until he steps outside the room.

Yuki is on him in a second, the grip of her gun colliding hard on the back of the man's head.

Donghyuk’s grip on Vivienne falters and she manages to free herself, running back inside.

Yuki easily grabs Donghyuk’s wrist once the man tries to shoot at her, which is a stupid move considering how close they are.

She twists Donghyuk’s wrist, who cries out in pain and drops the weapon, then Yuki uses the grip of her handgun once more to hit him on the nose, the sound of it breaking clear to everyone's ears.

“I should fucking break your hands for touching her.” Yuki grits out before she grabs the man's neck and pushes him back inside the room and down on his knees, the muzzle of the gun now against the back of Donghyuk’s head.

“What the fuck.” Vivienne whispers, she’s slowly lowering herself as her legs can't seem to keep her up, she sits on the floor. “What the actual fuck?”

“You.” Mara looks at Donghyuk. “Why were you here?”

Donghyuk’s breath is coming out ragged and uneven, blood painting his nose and mouth red. “As if I'll tell you.”

“I think you will. I have reasons to believe I can be pretty fucking convincing.”

Donghyuk nods. “Good luck with that.” He clenches his jaw hard and then there's the sound of something breaking.

Mara frowns, looking at the steel expression on Donghyuk’s face, then he coughs and his body starts shaking.

“Fuck, no!” Carla yells, running to Donghyuk.

She kneels in front of him and tries to open Donghyuk’s mouth but the man's jaw is clenched unnaturally, there's fucking foam slipping past his sealed lips and Mara already knows it's too late.

“A goddamn capsule.” she whispers and, really, she almost feels like laughing. Who the hell still uses capsules?

Carla hisses on a curse and lets go of Donghyuk, his body is already convulsing. Yuki rolls her eyes and shoves him on the floor, a few gurgling sounds leaving Donghyuk before he stills completely.

“What-” Vivienne swallows. “What just happened?”

“He poisoned himself.” Mara answers, eyes seeming to not leave Donghyuk’s bloodshot ones. 

“Carla, go downstairs, tell Constance about what happened, tell her Vivienne’s going home.” Mara says, she starts taking her jacket off. “Also, that she won't be coming back here for a while, too dangerous.”

“What about the bodies?”

Mara looks at Donghyuk, the other two men's corpses lying just behind him. “Send someone to clean up. Jianyu.”

“Got it. I'll meet you downstairs.”

Mara nods and Carla quickly makes her way out of the room.

Vivienne is staring at Donghyuk’s body, eyes wide and her whole frame shaking. Mara frees her last arm of the jacket and walks to her.

Kneeling in front of Vivienne, Mara drapes the jacket over her shoulders, Vivienne blinks and then she looks at her.

“I'm sorry.” Mara says and, really, she means it. “I didn't think this was going to happen.”

“I don't know anything.” Vivienne whispers again, her voice breaking. “I really- I don't know anything!”

“I know you don't.”

“They kept- kept asking me buh-'bout numbers, but I don't know! I swear!”

“Hey.” Mara grips Vivienne’s chin and makes sure that the girl’s eyes are on her and not on the dead body. “I know. Okay? I know. But right now I have to get you out of here so I need you to stand up and walk. Can you do that?”

Vivienne looks at her with bloodshot eyes for a few seconds before she slowly nods.

“Good. Come on, let's go.” Mara grabs Vivienne’s arm and helps her stand up, then she starts closing the buttons of her jacket so that Vivienne is at least somewhat covered.

They walk around Donghyuk’s body and then they head for the stairs. Mara doesn't rush the foreign as they climb down, she’s surprised Vivienne can even take one step at a time.

Once they're downstairs, Constance is already walking to them with something dangerous flashing in her eyes.

“What the fuck happened up there?” she hisses as soon as she's standing in front of them.

“Constance, not now.”

“Jesus- what happened to her?!”

“Constance.” Mara repeats, this time firmer. “Not now.”

Constance looks at Vivienne, her features softening at the sight of her darling. “Fine. Just take her home, we'll talk tomorrow.”

“Can't wait.” Mara mutters before she tugs on Vivienne’s arm and they start moving again. She now only realizes that Vivienne’s feet are bare, but they don't have time to go back up and get her some shoes, Mara doesn't know if those men were truly alone or if someone else is on their way.

She guides Vivienne through the bodies crowding in front of the bar and then they're in the corridor, the music fading out in the distance.

Outside it's colder than she remembered, she feels Vivienne shiver but it could be more because of the shock rather than the temperature.

Carla is waiting for them by Mara’s car.

Mara sniffs. “I'm taking her home.”

“No.” Carla shakes her head. “No, take her to the penthouse. We don't know if these men know where Vivienne lives, it's too dangerous. Keep her in your place for tonight, then I’ll check on her place if everything’s normal.”

Mara takes a deep breath, her eyes rolling so far back that she swears she can see her fucking brain at some point.

“Fine, okay. How did you know that Donghyuk?”

“He's part of the West Family.”

Great. Mara is looking for her coke, meanwhile, she’s got the entire fucking West Family sniffing up Donghyuk’s ass. It’s not pretty.

Just great.

“Now I have to deal with both my cocaine and Min Yoongi. This is fucking beautiful, isn’t it?” Mara scoffs at the wind.

Vivienne’s body shakes again and, this time, Mara knows it's because of the cold.

“Anyway, text me once you’re at her house.” Mara says, Carla nods and walks away, heading to where she must have parked her own car.

Mara gently pulls Vivienne to her car, she unlocks it and then opens the door for the passenger seat. Vivienne slides inside quickly and Mara closes the door, walking around the car and she gets behind the wheel as fast as she can. They really need to get away soon.

Mara starts the car and then she pulls away from the curb, she sends Vivienne a quick look.

“Seatbelt.”

Vivienne blinks, she slowly turns to her. “Uh?”

“Put your seatbelt on.”

Mara gets on the road, ignoring her own seatbelt completely, but she hears Vivienne doing as she’s told anyway.

They drive at a steady pace, Mara’s eyes darting multiple times to the rearview mirror to make sure that no one is following them. In the car immediately behind her there's a couple, a man and a woman, Mara can kind of make out the silhouette of a child as well, sitting behind.

Vivienne stays quiet. She raises her legs, putting her feet on the seat and hugging her knees close to her chest, making herself as small as possible.

Shit, she looks terrified out of her mind. Her pink hair almost seems white by now. 

Mara stops at a red light, leaning back against the seat and inhaling deeply. This has been a long night and it's not even two in the morning.

She sends Vivienne another glance but her eyes focus on the girl’s neck. The rope left angry red marks, skin bruised in a way that has Mara’s stomach churn. It's scratched as well, Donghyuk must have pulled tight and hard enough to actually breach the skin, there's dried blood on her throat.

“I'm sorry.” Mara says, again. “I'm really sorry.”

The light turns green and Mara focuses on the street again, her hands back on the steering wheel.

Vivienne sighs and leans her head against the car window.

“'s not your fault.” she replies quietly, then she closes her eyes.

Mara has a feeling that, some way or another, this  _ is _ her fault.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
  
  
  
  



	3. トーク

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t hurt him.” Vivienne gazes at Mara. “You won’t like it.”
> 
> “Sure thing.” Mara says, before moving past Vivienne to exit her office. She’s hurt other people before. She’s been hurt herself. It’s not a good feeling.
> 
> But now she has another prostitute to take care of. How wonderful.

 

 

 

 

For the second time this week, Mara’s mind is somewhere else again, eyes locked on the view of the sunrise through her windows. 

 

“Take it from me, Mara.” Carla says, nodding her head, almost acknowledging her own idea. “Talk to Min.”

 

Mara turns her head to look at Carla directly, her eyes still tired from last night’s events. “No way in hell. That shit’s too fucking dangerous.”

 

“Come on, at least consider it.”

 

“No. Do you know how much shit that would cost us? Not just our safety, our location, but fuck, our entire Family could be put in danger. I ain’t risking it all for that son of a bitch Hulin.”

 

Carla’s lips turn up into a sarcastic smile. “And yet there you were, storming into an abandoned condo—which smelled like actual shit, by the way—to mercilessly terminate Liu Chen because he stole your drugs together with Hulin.”

 

“Hate that fucking name.”

 

“I know you do. Listen to me,” Carla leans forward on her elbows, enticing Mara to agree with her. “Just talk to Yoongi. I don’t care how you do it, heck, shout at each other from two separate mountains, I don’t care. Just talk to him. It’s worth a shot.”

 

Mara brings the cigarette to her lips and inhales, she lets it fill her lungs before exhaling, smoke covering the air in front of her. “It’s not worth everything I own, Carla.”

 

Carla rolls her eyes. “I know that. We won’t let him get anything.  _ I  _ won’t let him get anything. I’ll shoot the son of the bitch if he even attempts anything.”

 

“You shoot anyone that does shit in front of you.” Mara says, deepening her gaze. She remembers how Carla emptied her gun out of bullets during their first attack, it was somewhere in Kallang and Carla was definitely not having a good day. “I’m not talking to him. I can solve this problem and find out where Hulin is hiding on my own.”

 

Carla clears her throat. 

 

“What?” Mara sneers. 

 

“Didn’t say we need their help.” Carla states, rubbing her thumb against her index finger, something she does way too often. A look of disgust crosses her face. Mara looks at her.

 

“What  _ did _ you say then?”

 

“I said that we gather information from him and the West Family if they know about Hulin or not. If they know him, that’s fucking great, if they don’t, what’s the harm?”

 

“If we I meet up with him, it’s gonna be upon my request, so it’ll be in one of his districts. We could get fucking duped, his men can and will be on us at any minute.” Mara takes another long drag from her cigarette. The smoke feels like flowers growing in her lungs. 

 

Maybe that’s why she likes it so much. 

 

“Mara, we’ve been betting on trust ever since you were on the throne.” Carla mutters, leaning forward even more. “Whatever’s gonna happen with Min, ‘s not gonna be different from the others.”

 

“Hmm.” Mara stares at the floor. She notices that her light gray carpet is a bit dirty, she drags her heel through it, making a faint, white mark. A memory crosses her mind. “Remember Wang?”

 

Carla scoffs, head snapping to the side. “Too much. Way too much. Fucker really wanted to burn the Aurora down.”

 

“Wonder how he’s doing at the bottom of the Geylang River.”

 

“Probably swimming with Jing and all those other fucks.”

 

“Ha.” Mara smiles. “Would feel great to throw Min in there.”

 

“Mara.” Carla stares at her. “ _ After _ you talk to him.”

 

The other woman lolls her head back, obviously annoyed. This is the last thing she wants to talk about.

 

“Stop acting like a child.”

 

“No.”

 

“Talk to him.”

 

“I don’t wanna.”

 

“Mara.” Carla repeats, this time more sternly. “That would make things so much fucking easier for us. Our investigation period could be cut in half, that’s like, 5 months worth of research time—gone. Our operations could flow incredibly smooth. We’d have nothing in our path. And then… then we could kill Hulin. I promise to you, everything’s gonna be easier if you talk to Min.”

 

Craning her neck back so she could look at the ceiling, Mara closes her eyes and inhales. Not smoke, just pure, untouched oxygen. 

 

Then she thinks. 

 

If she does happen to talk to Min, she wouldn’t lie, things would go effortlessly. If she gathers information from him, like things Hulin’s attempted to do in the past, crimes he’s committed, things he’s stolen, lines he’s crossed, that would just lead to Mara and the rest of the East Family closer and closer to him. And once they’re on his tail and they don’t have to run to keep up with Hulin anymore, they could catch him. Vivienne could lure him into a brothel, Mara could gain all the shit she needs from him, Carla could finish him off, then Kate could throw him into the Geylang River.

 

Right where his filthy animal ass belongs. 

 

“I’m talking to him alone.” Mara finally says, leveling her eyesight with Carla.

 

Carla’s eyes glint with hope, the corners of her lips curving up into a smile. She knew Mara would break. She always does. “Thank fucking god.”

 

“Remember,” Mara’s nose crinkles. “I’m doing it for the Family.”

 

“And for your godforsaken cocaine.”

 

“Of course. Damn, I’ll miss them.”

 

“They’ll find you. They always do.”

 

“Mm.” Mara mutters before putting the cigarette to her lips and inhaling the smoke. 

 

“It would be more than difficult to schedule a meeting with him though.”

 

If the silence in the room could be more deafening, it just happened. Mara’s not having it. She blows out the smoke, and it hangs in the space in front of her. “I know. That’s some shit you have to find out how to do.”

 

“I’m no fucking expert, Mara. Min’s a tough guy to pass.”

 

“Then take it through the most vulnerable of them.” Mara sniffs. “Jungkook.”

 

“Jeon?”   
  
“The one and only.”

 

“The youngest of them? Seriously?” Carla’s eyebrows furrow. “Isn’t that a fucking stretch?”   
  
“Doing absolutely  _ anything  _ related to the West Family is a fucking stretch. Don’t get me started.”   
  


“Hm.” Carla folds her hands on her lap. “I’ll see what I can do then.”

 

“You better.” 

 

The sun is starting to properly rise now, leveling with the point of view of Mara’s windows. The rays spill into the room, causing shadows to appear behind the objects and furniture of the office. Mara stares outside. She sees the buildings. She sees the cars below. She sees the people. She sees the beautiful sunrise. 

 

Then she remembers that she owns a country that feeds of off each other’s egos. 

  
A fucking pigsty. 

 

She’s thrown out of her thoughts when two soft knocks resonate from the wooden door. The two women look towards it. Carla squints her eyes. 

 

“Come in.” Mara states, voice loud enough to be heard by the person on the other side of the door. 

 

It swings open, not a single creaking sound to be heard, and reveals Vivienne on the other side. Her pink hair’s in a messy ponytail that spills over one of her shoulders, lips a little pale, eyes turned downward. She’s just woken up, Mara thinks, although she could be wrong and too assuming, maybe Vivienne just looks like this whenever she’s not at work. 

 

Mara scrunches up her face when she realizes what Vivienne’s wearing. A white wool sweater hangs off her thin frame, a little bit too long that it covers her shorts. It stops at about 5 inches above her knee.

 

Damn, is Mara  _ that  _ tall?

 

“Yeah?” Carla asks, eyes not leaving Vivienne.

 

“Nothing. Just thought you were out or… something.” she replies, fiddling with the hem of the sweater. 

 

That’s one of the few things Mara owns that is white. It’s too fucking pure, which means that she didn’t buy it for herself. Someone else bought it as a present, and Mara couldn’t let go of that idea so she keeps it in her closet until the thought could leave her mind.

 

It’s quite a wonder that Vivienne found it. Probably didn’t want to bother with all the blacks and reds that Mara has. 

 

“Have you eaten?” Mara asks, eyeing Vivienne up and down. “Because by the looks of it you haven’t had a single spoon in weeks.”

 

“Not hungry.” Vivienne states, eyes fixed on the ground. 

 

“Okay then.” Mara crosses her legs and turns in the chair to face Carla. “What?”

 

Carla has been staring at Vivienne, eyes wide open. “Do you know anyone who works for the West Family?”   
  
“Carla, what the fuck.”

 

“No, I’m serious. Vivienne, you’ve been out into the world before, and I’m sorry, but you were tossed around in that brothel way too much that it’s impossible that not one of those idiots went for you. Please be honest with me.”

 

Mara sighs loudly. “This is definitely not how you do your fucking job, Carla.”

 

“I might know someone.” Vivienne half-whispers, tilting her head up to look Carla in the eyes. “Another prostitute.”

 

“Vivienne close the damn door, I don’t want the smoke coming out of the room.” Mara blinks as she puts the cigarette to her mouth. Vivienne does as she’s told, pushing on the wood for it to close. The room is more silent.

 

“Who?” Carla asks, narrowing her eyes in hopes to find at least something from Vivienne. Only then she wouldn’t be as useless.

 

“Park Jimin.” the name feels eerily familiar to Mara. Has she heard it before? No, no, that’s fucking impossible. 

 

Mara knows everything, but she doesn’t know who Park Jimin is. 

 

“What’s his role in all of this?” Mara continues to look outside, watching the sun as it goes higher little by little in the sky. 

 

“Not sure, darling. But I think he’s associated with the West Family. He talks about them a lot. Like, a whole lot.”

 

“And this Park Jimin works… where?” Carla nods at Vivienne.

 

The foreign links her hands together. She’s nervous. “At the Ipanema.”

 

At this, Mara freezes. It’s too long of a pause for her cigarette to lose ashes, dropping onto her dirty carpet. Her eyes are fixated on one building, though her mind is branching out everywhere that it feels like she’s not inside the room anymore. 

 

_ At the Ipanema.  _ “That’s in the Changi district.” she lifts up her head, ever so slowly. “That’s on the West side. Min owns that brothel.”

 

“Fuck.” Carla hisses. She rubs her thumb and middle finger together again. “It’s not happening then.”   
  


“No, no wait.” Mara snaps her head to look in Vivienne’s direction. The pink-haired girl jumps a little at the action. “I’m gonna talk to him.”

 

“Hell no, Mara. You wanna waste your time on a fucking prostitute?” Carla’s eyes land on Mara. 

 

A small whimper can be heard from Vivienne, then the two other women look at her. Carla registers what she just said. “Shit no, I didn’t mean—”

 

“I’m not gonna waste my time on him. Just gather what I can and go.” Mara stubs her cigarette in her favorite gray ashtray. “He could be my passage to talk to Min.”

 

“I thought you said you wanted to go through Jungkook?” 

 

“Ah, fuck it. This Jimin sounds easier to pass.”

 

“He’s not that easy to please, darling.” Vivienne breathes. “He’s very stubborn. If you don’t treat him with respect, he won’t talk.”

 

“Basically a brat.” Mara straightens her legs and stands up, heels digging into the carpet. “Got it.”

 

“Don’t call him that.” Vivienne crosses her arms. 

 

“You can’t tell me what to do. Thanks for sharing with us who this Jimin is.”

 

Mara starts walking to the door where Vivienne is, the foreign standing her ground.

 

“What?” Mara tilts her head.

 

“Don’t hurt him.” Vivienne gazes at Mara. “You won’t like it.”

 

“Sure thing.” Mara says, before moving past Vivienne to exit her office. She’s hurt other people before. She’s been hurt herself. It’s not a good feeling.

 

But now she has another prostitute to take care of. How wonderful.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“Tomorrow.” Mara states. “We’re going tomorrow.”

 

“To Changi?” Carla stirs her coffee. 

 

Mara gets off a bar stool. They’re in Mara’s kitchen, spending the afternoon rather lazily. Vivienne’s up in her room, probably catching up on sleep or whatever she does whenever she’s alone.

 

“Where else?”

 

“Isn’t it too early?”

 

Mara sends a glance at Carla. “My cocaine’s on the fucking streets. High quality drugs. Low, poor people are getting whiffs of it. You’re telling me it’s too early for all this shit?”

 

“Alright, fuck, calm down. It’s tomorrow then.” Carla stops stirring to put her hands up in surrender. “You look like you need a fucking break.”

 

“Ain’t no rest for the wicked, Carla.”

 

As Mara walks to the bathroom, the automatic doors to her penthouse slide open. Both of them look towards it, Carla bracing herself just in case whoever’s behind those doors is someone they’re supposed to avoid. 

 

The two relax when Amber steps out. 

 

“Amber.” Mara’s lips turn up into a smile. “Back from the dead.”

 

“Oh shut up, Zhang, I barely even left.” the woman steps into the penthouse, closing her eyes and smelling the air.

 

“You look so fucking funny doing that.” Carla laughs. She takes a sip of her coffee.

 

“Mm. Someone else here?” Amber asks, heading over to where Mara is. She’s in the same condition as to what she was before she left last week. Her layered hair falls past her shoulders, but it doesn’t go as far down her back as Yuki’s hair. She’s wearing a maroon sweater, tight pants, and boots. She was never the one to wear heels.

 

Probably helps with the whole spy attitude. Mara has agreed on that ever since she gave Amber that position. 

 

“Mara has a prostitute in her home.” Carla places her mug down on a coaster. “A pretty one.”

 

“Oh, and you didn’t tell me we had a guest? Where is she?”

 

“In her room.”

 

“And she has her own room.”

 

“Quit it.”

 

Amber smiles. “Can I have her name?”

 

Mara sighs. “Vivienne Nakamura.”

 

The footsteps stop, Amber’s frozen in place. “She’s Japanese?”

 

“You weren’t that surprised when you found out Yuki was, too.” Mara decides to bail on her bathroom trip and sits back down on the barstool. 

 

“Didn’t know foreigns could be prostitutes.” Amber pouts her lips.    
  
“Neither did I and yet, here we are.”

 

“Hm.” Amber hums, going behind the counter and leaning on the marble surface. “I found out something about the West Family.”

 

“Keep it simple, Huang.”

 

Carla takes a seat beside Mara, listening in on the conversation. “What’cha got?”   
  


“They have this ghost they’re keeping tabs on.” Amber starts. “It’s making Min fucking delusional, and I’ll admit, it’s kinda funny. He always sends out Hoseok and Seokjin to do his dirty work for him and gather more intel, but they always end up empty-handed. They couldn’t catch whoever this guy is.”

 

Carla and Mara share a look. 

 

“Does this ghost have a name?” Mara asks. There’s a low possibility that whoever that is might be Hulin, but Mara couldn’t let her her instincts get the best of her. 

 

“He doesn’t.”

 

“What’d he do to Min?” Carla insinuates. Her coffee’s probably cold by now.

 

“Stole a shit ton of weapons. A whole warehouse of ‘em. I’m talking M-60s, M2A2s, Berettas, you name it.” Amber counts off on her fingers.

 

Mara smacks her lips. She’s deep in thought. The ghost is pretty similar to Hulin. He stole as well, left no marks, and couldn’t be found out in the open or deep in the system. Apart from a physical appearance and messy connections, Hulin might be messing with the West Family as well.

 

God, Mara knows what face Min pulled when he found out about the robbery. She’s seen it on him before. 

 

“And yeah, I’ve had a little thought session with myself and have guessed it’s that Chou Hulin fella you guys have been going on about, but it’s too early to point fingers.”

 

“I know.” Mara breathes. “But we’re meeting with a prostitute in Changi tomorrow.”

 

“That’s one of his red-light districts.”

 

“Mm. We’re gonna speak to him, and hopefully, I can gain passage to talk to Min.”

 

“Holy shit.” Amber’s eyes widen. “You’re gonna talk to him.”

 

“Not like I haven’t done that before.”

 

“Good fucking luck then.” Amber smirks. “I think he’s always up for a little reunion.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
